


Kidnapped!

by redalader



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, baz is worried about simon, boy is he in for a shock, simon still thinks baz is evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redalader/pseuds/redalader
Summary: “You can’t just kidnap The Chosen One!” Baz’s voice hissed from the other room.Simon should have known from the minute he woke up tied to a red velvet chair that this was Baz's doing.In which Fiona Pitch kidnaps Simon, leaving Baz as chief interrogator. Only, Simon finds a different side to Baz that he had seen in Watford. A side that might actually be able to tolerate....
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 35
Kudos: 117





	1. Waking Up

Simon

Simon’s eyes flickered open. _Where the hell was he?_ It was a bedroom that looked more akin to something from a period drama than anything else. A large four poster bed took up most of the room, each post carved with goblins and dragons with eyes that seemed to glow whenever he stared at them for too long. Bright purple curtains that matched the bed covers blew in the wind from a window that was most definitely closed and the grandfather clock in the corner continued to tick even though its glass face was cracked and broken. _Could it be ghosts? Are ghosts real?_ He couldn’t remember, but hanging directly above the fireplace opposite him was a large oil painting of a woman with short black hair and he thought she looked sort of friendly, so at least if there were ghosts they might not be the horrifying vengeance seeking ones. 

His hands were tethered behind his back but he had been in situations like this before. The key was always to wait for an opportunity before letting all hell break lose. Only, ordinarily these situations had a reason for happening, like he pissed off the wrong goblins or the Mage decided to put him through another test.

This time was different. It wasn’t a test, and he hadn’t annoyed the ghosts of any Victorians so there was absolutely no reason for him to be currently tied to a chair.

“You can’t just kidnap The Chosen One!” Baz’s voice hissed from the other room.

 _Of course it was Baz._ But how in the world had he done this?

“We had no choice, the Mage is definitely up to something. We need him here.” A woman’s voice replied. He wondered if was the same woman from the painting.

“But we go back to school in a couple of weeks, he’ll know he is missing! I can’t go back without a roommate!”

“Just go in and see if you can get anything from him!”

“He won’t tell me anything, he hates me!”

Simon stared at the door, watching as Baz entered the room in the ordinarily smug way he normally did. “Hello, Snow.” He said with a grin.

“Is this where you try to eat me?” Simon said, hoping whoever that woman was hadn’t removed the cross from him.

Baz only laughed.

“Who else is out there? What is this? Your coven?”

“Coven?” He raised his eyebrow. 

“Fuck, I don’t know, whatever you call a group of vampires.”

“It’s a nest.” He said in that horrible condescending tone. “They are usually in caves or tombs or somewhere dark and away from the sun. Don’t you pay attention in class, ever?”

“Why have you brought me here?”

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah right.”

“Can’t you just use your Chosen One powers to get out?” He mused and Simon felt the anger rising, only it was muted somehow. Ordinarily there would be some fire in him, a surge of power sparking through his body, but it was distant somehow. As if the fire that he normally had inside him had been dampened.

“I will.”

“What’s wrong?” Baz’s ironic look of worry almost looked genuine. “Come on, get yourself out.”

“I will.” Simon wondered if Baz had spelled him somehow, slowed his power or found a way to stop it completely. He felt drained, his head dizzy, something was wrong. Something was badly wrong.

“What’s going on?” Baz asked, and Simon was sure he must be loving this. Loving how weak he was, tied to a chair and completely helpless.

He watched as Baz moved towards the door, a frown on his face that made Simon wonder if his body weakening was the result of some poison that had taken a while to have an effect.

“I’ll be back.” He rushed out the room, leaving Simon once again alone with the oil portrait that was now glaring at him.

Baz

Simon Snow was in his house. Not by consent, and certainly not happy to be there, but he was in fact currently in his home. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, in his wildest fantasy of Simon appearing at his front door, it was usually for something far more interesting than cursing him out while tied to a chair.

Not that he would admit that to anyone. That he was painfully in love with the boy who was destined to destroy him.

“Well?” Fiona caught him on his way downstairs.

“Nothing yet, I thought I would give him some water.” Baz explained and she seemed to believe it enough to leave him alone.

 _I’m going to need much more than water._ He thought to himself. Simon often showed up at Watford as a shell of his former self, skin, bone and not much else. But that was at the end of Summer, so to see him sitting in that chair with barely a pound on him, his clothes hanging from him like a blanket, after only a month of the Summer holiday was just too much.

It was impossible not to worry about him. At least at Watford there was an abundance of food for him to snack on, what was Fiona planning on giving him? Maybe she was going to starve him out.

That might have actually worked, he had never known Simon to go overly long without digging into something sweet. But he couldn’t stand to see him like that. Especially not when he looked so disgustingly pale.

Filling up a bowl with all the sweet treats he could find, along with some sandwiches, and fruit, he hoped to at least restore him back to some element of health. Maybe if he did, Simon wouldn’t eviscerate him once he found a way out.

Which he would, because Simon never just left places, he erupted like wildfire destroying everything in his path and Baz had been on the list of things to destroy for six years. 

“Quickly back upstairs, Baz. Keep him occupied.” Fiona appeared behind him.  
  
He tried to smile at her, but he was sure it didn't reach his eyes. He was in for it now. Whether Simon killed him for kidnapping him, or simply for being a vampire, it was happening, and from the indescribable rage on Simon's face as he stepped back in the room, Baz knew it was happening soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short because I'm really not sure how the concept is going to go down but I do have more if people want more. I also wrote it in a rush so I'm sorry if there are bits that are a little rough. I hope you enjoy anyways! Please let me know if you do!


	2. Ham Sandwhiches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments on the last chapter! Sorry this is a little late, quarantine makes it really hard to keep track of the days!

Simon

Baz returned with water and a bowl stacked to the brim with cakes, fruit, biscuits and sandwiches. Was this his attempt at convincing him he was human?

“I don’t know about vampires, but most people would find that excessive.”

“It’s for you, idiot.” Baz said, setting the water down on the floor, and standing annoying close beside him.

“I don’t want your –“ but before he could finish Baz had shoved the end of a ham sandwich into his mouth. Not enough to make him choke, but just the right amount to make it impossible to speak.

He tried to fight him off, to spit the thing out but whatever spell Baz had put him under caused his muscles to be numb and heavy. His whole body felt as if it were made from stone. Reluctantly taking a bite, Simon was glad when the rest of the sandwich loosely dropped from his lips and Baz placed placed it back in the bowl with a laugh.

“It’s not funny.” Simon spat, hating the way Baz was now leaning against the bed, looking as relaxed as ever, as if this were just a regular everyday occurrence.

“I thought you would have found a way out by now,” Baz grinned and Simon wished his hands weren’t currently tied behind his back.

It was beyond torture, watching his worst enemy gloat like this. Of course, he hadn’t found a way out of the spell or the bonds or whatever was causing him to feel so weak. The smoke should have risen in him by now, he should have been ready to fight, but he reached down inside him to find himself empty. There was nothing there but a very dim spark. Even when he tried to call for his blade there was nothing but a faint tingling around his hands.

Baz

Shoving half a ham sandwich into Simon Snow’s mouth was the most satisfying thing he had ever done (and the most idiotic).

He did go to the kitchen with good intentions and came upstairs willing to continue his good deed and find Simon some food. The part where he found himself sticking a sandwich in Simon’s open mouth only happened out of impulse.

(and because it was funny)

As soon as he did it he regretted it. The anger in Simon’s face told him the magic was bubbling, that Snow would set off and be out of the house quicker than he appeared in it. The curl of his lip, the fire in those sparkling blue eyes, Baz knew it was coming, he had seen the signs before. He waited for the magic to enter his nostrils, for the smell of him to fill the entire room, the entire floor, leaving its mark deeply set into the walls. Strong magical outbursts were known to linger occasionally, but the outbursts of the Chosen One embedded themselves into corners and cracks, finding a way into old drawers and locked chests. It filled the air with smoke and fire as if there were nothing else in the room but pure unadulterated magic.

But no smell, or spark or sign emerged. There was nothing except Snow looking more and more pissed off. He couldn’t help but laugh.

Simon’s face changed from anger to panic, and Baz watched as his hands began flicking at something, as if there were some invisible bug there, hovering around his wrists.

“Summon that sword you’ll be out of here in two seconds.” Although why Snow hadn’t thought of that already didn’t make sense to him. His blade was usually his first point of call. _Blade first, think later_ , was Snow’s usual approach.

“Fuck off.”

Baz was too busy paying attention to Simon’s hands to reply. Maybe they weren’t swatting for something, maybe he was trying to call his blade, and for some reason it just wasn’t working. _What the hell had Fiona done?_

“What did you do?” The outrage had dissipated from Simon’s voice, and Baz watched his head move slightly up and down. His expression was faint, looking even paler than he had done an hour ago. Even his eyes, beautiful and blue, seemed to be looking past Baz, entirely unable to focus.

“Snow-“ Baz began to panic until he remembered the reason he had went downstairs earlier. “You need to eat.” He knew what it was like to be hungry, to feel a hollow pain at the bottom of your stomach and a desperate craving for anything that would fill it. Although, he supposed Simon’s hunger would involve less dead animals.

“I would rather starve than let you feed me.”

“Fine.”

Simon

Baz was behind him now. He felt so shit he had no choice but to let him. As much as he tried to struggle, the chair wouldn’t budge, and he was sure he heard Baz laugh as he disappeared from view.

This couldn’t be the end. There was no way. He wasn’t going to die tied to a chair in a creepy room with his mortal (immortal?) enemy draining the life from him.

“Get away –“ his voice wasn’t nearly as loud as he hoped it would be, but he didn’t have to finish because he felt his hands thud against the base of the chair.

Bringing them into view felt like walking waist deep in water, as if he was fighting against some invisible current.

“Eat,” Baz put the bowl of food on his lap and stood back against the bed post.

“Why would you untie me?”

“You looked too helpless, it was getting sad.”

If he didn’t feel as though he would pass out he would have thrown the food at Baz’s head. He was still so calm.

“Can you move your arms?” Baz asked.

“Why?” Simon tried to act as if the sandwich he was currently eating wasn’t the best thing he had tasted in months, and took another large mouthful.

“Can you?”

He went to demonstrate by raising his left arm and giving Baz the finger in the process, but he couldn’t get it further than his shoulder. Even his cursing was lacklustre, only two fingers went down leaving him with a wonky peace sign and a thumbs up. He felt his cheeks turn red as he brought the hand back down towards the bowl and continued eating. Maybe he should eat first, it had been ages since he had had a proper meal.

He expected Baz to laugh again at his getting weaker, but instead his kidnapper frowned. “I’ll be back.”

Baz

It wasn’t just Simon’s magic that was broken, but Simon Snow himself had seemed to have forgotten how to function. As if his whole body had decided to shut down.

Fiona was powerful, but not powerful enough for something like this. There were no words that could drain someone like that. In third year a rumour had went around that a student years ago had died when someone had cast, _Suck the Life Out of You,_ but even in the rumour the person had died quickly, air leaving their lungs in seconds. Not that he believed it anyway, death spells were incredibly specific and unpredictable. Casting one could end your life as much as it could your target’s, and his father had told him a story about someone casting one and having it accidentally kill his neighbour.

Besides, if Fiona had wanted Simon dead she wouldn’t have kidnapped him. No, there was something else going on.

“Found anything yet?” She asked, sat on the living room couch reading through some magazine.

“What spell did you use?” Baz regretted how pointedly he had asked. If he wanted Simon out the house as fast as possible, he had to at least appear eager to play the role of interrogator.

“Why?” She put the magazine down on the table.

“He can hardly move.”

“That’s surprising,” she muttered.

“Will he die?” Baz was worried. Fiona’s plans were usually concrete, nothing surprised her.

“It’s just a bit of blood magic if you must know.”

“That’s illegal!” Baz blurted out.

“So is kidnapping.” She settled back down on the couch again and Baz concluded that the conversation must be over.

 _Blood magic._ It was illegal for a reason. One drop and you control and entire family line. Make one person fall asleep, suddenly the whole family becomes unconscious. Need someone to steal a painting? Now there are thirty adults and ten babies bumbling about the house fighting over who gets the privilege.

She would never have used it on anyone else, but Simon was an orphan, he came from some Normal family that had abandoned him. Blood magic only worked on magical blood.

At least he knew what he was dealing with now. Simon would be fine. It would drain him for a bit, but as long as no one else was under the same spell he shouldn’t be too affected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I hope you like where I'm going with this. This is obviously all about Simon/Baz but I have to deal with some things along the way (if you can't already tell). But do not worry this story has a happy ending!
> 
> P.S I'm sorry this chapter was a bit slow, but trust me friends it's about to get real fast real quick. 
> 
> As always let me know what you think but please be kind!!! 
> 
> See you next Friday!


	3. Family Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz and Simon talk some things out

Simon

Whatever Baz did to him was seriously powerful. Nothing had been able to hold him back this much before.

The food Baz brought was far too much but he still managed to scoff it in seconds. Crowley, he was hungry. Starved, even.

He should have been used to it. So much of his Summers were spent anticipating the food back at Watford. He never felt quite full when he was in care. But this hunger was different, more hollow, as if there were a void in him that he could never fill no matter how much he shoved in his mouth.

The food did seem to take part of the curse (or whatever it was) away because after devouring the whole bowl he fell asleep and woke up feeling less drained. (He could move his arms a bit easier now, and he didn’t feel like passing out.)

The woman in the portrait above the fireplace was looking down on him now. Partly because he couldn’t find a way to stand so he had pushed himself off the chair and crawled towards the food. (He was really that desperate.)

Although the bed was just above him, he couldn’t muster up the energy to stand so had slept propped up against it. He had really tried to make it look like it was his choice to be there, moving into a position that was almost casual, when the truth was he didn’t have the energy to make it to the door, or back to the chair, or anywhere really.

Baz

Snow looked better.

Baz hadn’t actually gone into the room, yet, but had taken a peek through the keyhole to see him eat something. Colour returned to his cheeks and he actually looked content for a moment as he took a large chunk of an orange and shoved it into his mouth.

Lingering there didn’t seem like a good idea, if anyone could break free from blood magic it would be Snow. Personally, he was rooting for him to figure it out on his own. To explode and rush out the house quicker than he arrived.

So, instead of waiting outside the door he had gone to look for books on blood magic, hoping to help Snow get as far away from him as possible. Once he found the book he needed: _Blood, Sweat and Tears: Illegal Magicks and The Body_ , he went to read his bedroom.

That was when Fiona burst in and started talking about the Mage being too sick to come to the Coven meeting, and how he was blaming it on The Families as if they had nothing better to do than sit around coming up with spells that would give him the sniffles.

“He has never missed a meeting before, either he really is seriously ill or he is plotting something.” Fiona told him, too caught up in the latest Coven session to notice the book he was attempting to hide behind him.

“You really need to find out what the Mage is planning. It’s not as if we can keep _him_ here for much longer.”

Fiona might have had a point. It was true that if he managed to convince Snow to tell him all the Mage’s secrets, then everything could go back to normal. But she didn’t realise they were dealing with the most stubborn idiot on the planet.

Simon

“Why do you even need me here?” Simon asked as Baz entered the room carrying a large red book. It had been a whole evening since he had last seen his kidnapper, which made his lack-of-escape even more pathetic.

“Do you know what the Mage is up to?” Baz’s question caught him off guard. This was about the Mage?

“What do you mean?”

“Lay off it, Snow,” Baz snarled, “Just tell me.”

“Then you break this curse?” Simon asked, trying to cross his legs but finding they wouldn’t move at all.

“Depends on what you tell me.” Baz smirked, and he was sure he was enjoying his role far too much.

He hated being weak like this. Having Baz peer down at him when he couldn’t fight back.

“Why would I tell you anything?” Truthfully, he didn’t actually know anything, he hadn’t spoken to the Mage all Summer, and he was distant at the best of times anyway. But Simon would be dammed before he admitted any of that to Baz.

“Fine. Don’t tell me.” He shrugged, and Simon was a little disappointed. He was hoping they could argue some more, the moment Baz came in he could feel his magic very faintly. Maybe frustration was the key to getting out of this curse.

Baz just wandered to the desk, opened up the book and began reading. He looked so cool. As if he were just reading in the library back at Watford and not part of an illegal kidnapping plot.

“Is this your room?” Simon asked. It was a stupid question, Baz had been gone all night, but he just needed to get angry, hoping that his magic would come back and break him free.

“No.” Baz barely looked up from his book.

“Whose room is it then?”

“I think I ask the questions here, Snow.”

“How is that fair?”

“It’s not, but you were stupid enough to get kidnapped so –”

“I wasn’t-” The anger was brewing in him, but it was magickless. Far colder than the hot rapid waves of smoke and fire that normally crept up on him. “How did you kidnap me anyway?”

“Are you asking for advice?” This time Baz did look up from the book, although his hands were still on it. Whatever he was reading had to be important.

“Would you give it to me if I was?”

He scoffed and went back to reading.

That was annoying. Baz had drained the magic from him then tied him to a chair and he wouldn’t even give him ten minutes of attention?

Picking up the bowl the food was in, Simon chucked it in Baz’s direction. He was going for his kidnapper’s head but instead the wooden bowl veered to the side and crashed right into the portrait.

“For goodness sake Snow, do you have to be such a disaster at everything?” Baz shouted, standing to his feet and rushing over to where the bowl landed.

“It’s just a painting,”

“It’s a painting of my mother you imbecile.”

That was the worst Simon had ever felt in his life. Just because he hadn’t grown up with parents didn’t mean he couldn’t understand how much it must have hurt to lose them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –“

“I know you didn’t.” Baz sighed and bent down to pick up the bowl. “You never mean to do anything.”

“I mean it, Baz.”

“Forget it.”

“No, I mean, I don’t have parents, but I know what it must be like to-”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I used to imagine I did.” Simon paused. He wasn’t sure why he was sharing this now. Especially not with Baz. He hadn’t told anyone this, but he couldn’t help himself. “I used to think they were this young couple who just weren’t ready for me, but one day they would come and get me in this big fancy car and we would be this perfect family.”

“Perfect families don’t exist, Snow.” Baz said, and there was a definite pain in his voice, although he tried to hide it.

“I know that now, but I just wanted to say I get it, and I’m sorry.”

He laughed, then. Laughed. Not the snicker he sometimes did whenever he did something stupid, or the arrogant chuckle that followed some snide remark. This was a proper belly laugh. “I’ve kidnapped you and put you under a curse and you are apologising?”

“So you admit it?” Simon asked, he was also grinning at the thought. He couldn’t help it. Seeing Baz laugh it was….it was different. As if he was seeing a whole new side to him.

“Would it help if I said I did?” Baz asked.

“Not really.”

Neither of them said anything for a second. The laughter had stopped and they were just staring at each other. It was awkward, but he supposed most kidnappings were.

“You must be able to move your arms better if you were able to throw a bowl at my departed mother.” Baz said, and Simon was genuinely surprised at the tone of his voice.

Was he…. _worried_ about him? No, that would be ridiculous. He was probably just making sure his curse was still working. Simon nodded and raised his hands a little higher as if to demonstrate that it was.

“It’s still not great is it?” Baz muttered before returning to his desk and burying himself back in that book.

Something warm panged inside him at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so supported but so intimidated at all your lovely comments, I really don't want to disappoint anyone, but I feel this chapter is so rushed!   
> (Maybe it's just because I'm having a bad day) 
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you enjoy, ily all and thank you for reading! <3


	4. Blood is Thicker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make this chapter twice as long as normal because I haven't updated in 2 weeks (explanation at bottom)

Simon 

Nights were the worst.

He was sure he couldn’t take another one.

The first one he was lent against the bed and woken every twenty minutes because of something rustling or scratching, or occasionally reaching out and stroking what felt like a long finger down his back. It was definitely fitting for a house like this to have ghosts (where they ghosts?) but being helplessly stuck on the floor while a group of shadows seemed to delight in the pain in his lower back was not the best method to a relaxing sleep.

The couple of minutes of sleep he did manage to achieve felt like falling asleep on the train, in a blink of an eye twenty minutes had gone but it didn’t feel relaxing or energising, it just felt kind of grotty.

Grotty.

That’s exactly how he felt, completely rough, filthy, exhausted and with absolutely nothing he could do about it.

“I need to tell you something.” Baz’s voice came from the door but all he could see was darkness. The creeping shadows shifted then, disappearing from the room and revealing Baz standing there, a small flame flickering above his hand. He didn’t flinch at whatever was initially swarming the room, and walked coolly towards the bed as if this were normal for him.

“Can you control ghosts?” Simon wondered. Maybe it was a vampire thing.

“What?”

“Ghosts, or whatever shadowy things live here.”

“The wraiths? They are harmless.”

“I could feel them scratching at me last night.”

“I said they were harmless, I didn’t say they weren’t hungry.” Baz smirked and Simon couldn’t tell whether or not he was joking.

“Fuck off.” He wished he could think of something more eloquent, but the truth was he was scared. Especially without his magic, he was basically defenceless.

“Aren’t you going to bed?” Baz asked with a sincerity that really concerned him. Was he trying to play good cop for a little? To see if he would crack under a few nice words.

“I would but whatever spell you have me under has made it impossible to move.”

“I could help?”

“I’m not letting you near me.” Simon raised his voice, he might die of embarrassment before Baz even got close.

Baz sighed, “I’ll help lift you onto the bed and you can do whatever you want from there.”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t the wraiths will eat you.”

He was lying. He had to be lying, but that low scratching sound was running down the bedpost behind him. It was either face Baz or deal with another sleepless night of creatures without any magic.

“Fine.” Simon said begrudgingly. He raised his arm and tried to lift the rest of his body but it hardly budged until Baz lent down and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Effortlessly, he seemed to lift him without strain, but Simon put it down to the fact he felt slightly better more than anything.

Baz walked him to the opposite end of the bed and dropped him down like a sack of potatoes. “You can take it from here.”

Baz

It’s incredibly hard to sleep when Simon Snow is curled up in a ball of blankets near by. It’s even harder to sleep when he is curled up in one of the spare rooms because your Aunt decided it would be a fantastic idea to kidnap him.

“Fiona.” He decided to ask her again about what was going on. He had never seen Snow that helpless, and his fantasies about having his arms around Simon Snow usually didn’t involve helping him into bed because his whole body seemed to have broken down.

She sometimes didn’t sleep well and would watch TV in the living room until she felt tired enough to go back to bed, so when Baz heard noises downstairs he thought it was her. Only, when he opened the door he could see his father talking to a man he didn’t recognise.

“The Mage is really convinced that someone in the Coven is poisoning him.” The man spoke with a tone of accusation, but Baz’s father kept his cool. He was good at that, acting as if nothing phased him, even when being accused of attempted murder.

“Is he?” Baz’s father asked in the same way you might respond when you hear that someone is a vegetarian or they are a member of a golf club.

“He was feeling a little hazy yesterday but is a lot worse this morning. I thought I would let you know.”

“I will be sure to give him our best wishes.”

Baz saw his father gesturing towards the door so he raced back upstairs, not wanting to be caught.

He sat in his room reading for an hour until it was an appropriate enough time to check on Snow. He was glad to see him awake, but entirely surprised to find him standing by himself, lingering at the edge of the bed as if terrified he could collapse at any second.

“Snow. You look better.” He really did, there was a flush of colour in his cheeks, his eyes were bright and blue and aside from a few loose curls across his forehead, he truly looked perfect.

“I…I don’t feel great but I can stand now.” Snow replied, and Baz wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken the opportunity to either blow the house down or high-tail it to the Mage.

“How’s your magic?”

“Still gone.”

That explains it.

“You have to stop it, Baz.” Simon said and at first Baz thought he meant the blood magic, as if he had figured it out. “Just cut the crap, okay, if you are going to trap me here against my will you can stop acting as if we are friends.”

“I was just making sure you didn’t get eaten.” Baz tried to smirk. It was a little harder than normal, he had really thought they were at least starting to bond.

“Shut up.”

“Fine. I’ll bring you breakfast and some clean clothes and then leave the room for a very long time and you can do what you want.”

“How am I supposed to get out without magic?”

“You know how to open a door without that sword by your side don’t you?” He walked out the room. This was for the best. Snow was better, and was about to leave without exploding or going off and he could go back to spending a few days blissfully alone before summer ended.

Simon only tilted his head a little and raised an eyebrow like a little lost puppy.

Simon 

He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. Why not just run now? But his legs were tired, and everything inside him still felt kind of heavy.

Besides, if it was all about knowing your enemy, he might as well have a quick glimpse at whatever Baz had been studying.

Walking to the desk was a slow process because currently moving his legs felt like he was at the deep end of the pool trying to walk under water. As if there was a force trying to push him back.

Sitting himself down he looked briefly over it.

_Blood Rituals; The O-Positive’s and O-Negatives_

Aside from the silly title, the whole thing was very dense, worse than any of his school books. He didn’t understand why people wrote like this, what’s the point in taking a paragraph to say a bunch of long words when you can say the same thing in a simple sentence.

There was one section that Baz must have underlined, it was entitled, ‘ _Blood is Thicker_ ,’ and seemed to be listing the consequence of Blood Magic, something the Mage had told him to stay away from.

When time Baz returned Simon was still trying to make sense of the chapter, and cursing whoever wrote it for being so vague.

Simon didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t staring at the book when Baz plopped a tray of breakfast beside him. “What’s this?”

“It’s breakfast.”

“I didn’t mean –“

“Oh and some clothes.” Baz let the jeans and hoodie he had in his hands fall to the floor. “You are starting to smell.”

“What’s in the book, Baz?” Simon said irritably.

“It’s what I think is making your magic go away.”

“What?”

Baz sighed. “I have been trying to fix it, Snow.”

“Tell me what it is.”

“Blood magic. I think my aunt used some on you.”

“But she would need my blood for that!”

“Yes.”

“How did she get my blood?”

“You do tend to bleed a lot, Snow.”

“Do you mean it?” Simon asked.

“That you bleed like a bloody tap?”

“That are you are trying to fix it?”

“Yes.”

Simon nodded. He believed him (as much as he didn’t want to.) Playing good cop only works if you are asking questions, but Baz had only been studying the book and bringing him food. And why study a book about magic you’ve already cast?

Baz

Snow’s eyes looked even bluer from this angle. The light from the window was illuminating his face so it seemed like his whole person was glowing.

Baz wished he would stop.

He was also looking at him as if he actually believed that he was looking to find a way to fix him.

Baz wished he would stop that too.

“Can’t you just sniff it out?” Brief pauses and momentary glances never last longer than a second with Snow.

“What?”

“The blood.” He paused, “Y’know, because of the vampire thing.”

Baz snorted. “Don’t be an idiot.”

(Maybe it wasn’t a dreadful idea, but as a rule he avoided any and all blood that was not attached to a body. Just in case he couldn’t help himself and then accidentally got hooked. So yes, it was a dreadful idea.)

A few doors slammed downstairs and he could hear one of the twins crying.

“What’s going on?” Snow asked, Baz could see him reach for his blade only none arrived.

There were noises of footsteps, a stampede of them. He could hear banging in the kitchen and Fiona screaming in one room, as the thud of drawers being opened echoed throughout the house.

 _Shit._ “It’s another bloody raid.”

“A what?” Simon looked confused. Genuinely confused. Did the Mage tell him anything?

“Your Mage has been sending people to ransack our house every week or so.”

“Why?”

“Because why not? His personal army can’t get enough of it.”

Baz could hear someone rushing up the stairs and the door burst open revealing Bunce, not Penelope, her brother, one of the Mage’s men.

“Simon.” Premal’s eyes widened when he locked onto Simon, sitting at the desk in clothes that were clearly days old.

“It’s polite to knock first.” Baz hissed. If he saw the book…the illegal book on the illegal spell which Simon was clearly under…

“Under strict orders, Pitch. The Mage is unconscious, we are trying to revive him but if he was being poisoned by illegal magic then we have to investigate.”

“None of us have been near him!” Baz snarled. (Because Fiona was too busy cursing Simon, but that was besides the point.)

“What’s wrong with him?” Snow asked.

“We haven’t figured that out….” Premal was still staring at Snow as if he had seen a ghost. It made sense. He was here against his will, everyone knew the nature of his relationship with Snow. “But they are casting everything they can think of on him as they speak.” He paused, pursing his lips in the annoying way Professor Bunce did before asking something. “Simon, are you alright?”

There it was. Snow would give them up and the whole thing would be over.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You aren’t...” Premal’s eyes flickered over to the chair with the ropes lying just behind it. “You know you can come back to Watford with us, we can give you a lift!”

That was annoying. Baz would have preferred him to outright just accuse him of kidnapping Snow instead of dancing his way around it.

“No, it’s fine. I’m happy here.”

Baz’s head shot round to look at him. He was smiling a little half smile and even though the offer to escape and confess to being kidnapped, he wanted to stay here. Was _happy_ here? It didn’t make sense.

Neither of them said anything until Fiona’s final shouts of Good Riddance, echoed through the halls.

“Why didn’t you go away with them?”

“I don’t know.”

“If they thought you were kidnapped we would have –“

“I know.”

Baz was glad Simon cut him off. He truly didn’t know what would have happened, but kidnapping the Mage’s heir, using illegal magic and being a Pitch might have resulted in being burnt at the stake.

“I wonder why they left so quickly….” Baz muttered.

“They normally stay for longer?”

“They don’t normally leave until the whole place is in shambles.”

Snow moved his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out.

“Snow?”

His eyes flickered, his face turning a ghastly pale and he was falling out the chair.

“Simon!”

Baz grabbed him before he hurt himself, cradling his head in his arms. He felt colder than normal, everything about Snow radiated heat, but currently his skin was ice.

Wrapping his other arm around his legs, he carried him over to the bed and laid him down, rushing to the cupboard for more blankets. Anything to keep him warm.

He was breathing, and he didn’t look as if he was dying, it was like he was asleep with the flu. Pale, and clammy but with a deep breath and steady pulse, as if one shake would wake him up (but it didn’t. Nothing did.)

What the hell was happening?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have BIG plans !! It's gone a lot slower than expected but don't you worry things are about to heat up! (I think I said this a few chapters ago but I mean it this time) 
> 
> I basically had The Most stressful few weeks. I'm trying to write a dissertation and my supervisor gave me 101 notes and I had a couple of life-crises but I'm all good now!! Might start writing longer chapters too !! 
> 
> PS Is Grotty a scottish word or a UK word because I was going to take it out but I googled and it said British so I guess it's fine? It is a good word tho 10/10 would recommend, feel free to take it to your own vocabulary


	5. Long Lost Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So what do we need? Family trees? Maps? Addresses?” The smile had not left his face. Simon Snow was positively ecstatic and it was making his dead heart even heavier. “I wish there was a magical version of that Davina McCall show.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so much for all your lovely comments, I hope you enjoy this next instalment!!

Baz 

He had tried every spell he could think of. Nothing was working. The blood magic Fiona used might be killing him. He flicked through the book again, maybe there was something there that could help.

There was a paragraph on certain blood types and how O-positives are the hardest to control, but nothing about spontaneous comas.

Snow did seem to be okay though, just unconscious. It was normally the hardest thing in the world watching him sleep, the softness of his breath as he lay there, the peacefulness to it. He was in love with him and that meant being near him impossibly difficult. But this was far worse.

It didn’t even make sense, he was fine a few hours ago. A few hours ago when he had told the Mage’s men that he was here willingly. Maybe that’s what did it. Simon Snow trusted him for more than ten minutes and suddenly he was in a coma.

He couldn’t even ask Fiona, she had rushed out with his father to go complain to the Coven about another raid. His step-mother and siblings were out too, she always took them to the park when the Mage’s men arrived. The sight of a group of men dressed as Peter Pan bursting into the house would surely result in years of therapy if they stayed.

He was home alone. Well, not alone. Snow was there, he just wasn’t currently much company.

He was contemplating just following The Chosen One’s advice and sniffing out the blood when the door to his bedroom burst open for the second time today.

“What the hell is it now!” He snarled, turning to see Bunce standing in the doorway.

 _Great._ This is all he needed.

“Simon!” She screamed, rushing for the bed.

This couldn’t possibly look any worse.

“What the hell did you do?” She said, still focused on Snow and blasting all the healing spells at him that he had already tried.

“Nothing,” he snarled. For once he was trying his best to help and all he was getting for it was abuse.

“Why is he unconscious?”

“He’s just a heavy sleeper.” (He couldn’t help himself) “How did you even know he was here?”

“My brother told me.”

“Well, like he told your brother, he is here by choice.”

“Bullshit.”

“Look,” he snapped. “I have no idea what’s happening. He was here and we were talking and then suddenly he was unconscious. I’ve tried every single spell I can think of.”

“What exactly was he doing?” She glanced over at the desk where the book was lying open, but he got to it first, shutting it over and making sure that his hands covered the title.

“You need to promise not to go to your brother about this.”

“Why?”

“Because if the Mage finds out I doubt he’ll hear my side of things!”

“And why should I?”

“Look it’s either Snow wakes up or he doesn’t, so do you want my help or not?”

(He was always so good at looking threatening, even if, right at that moment, he felt nothing but panic.)

“Fine.”

Uncovering the book he found the exact page he was looking at before Snow collapsed.

“Blood magic! That’s illegal” She yelled.

“Obviously.”

“Wait –“ She paused, studying over one of the few lines he hadn’t underlined. It was one of the passages about family and how different familial relationships have different effects through the use of their blood. He didn’t think it mattered because Snow had no family, but the way Bunce’s eyes widened as she scanned over it again made him wonder if she knew something he didn’t.

“What is it?”

“Baz, the Mage was sick earlier.”

“Don’t I know it.” He muttered.

“They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him, until someone made the suggestion that it might be blood magic.”

“Ridiculous! My family have not cursed the Mage,”

“But they used blood magic on Simon didn’t they?”

He hesitated, “Yes.”

She nodded, pointing to a line in the book,

_Blood magic, when used against someone distant from their kin will result in a dynamic equilibrium, between two opposing forces. When one party stands the other must sit, until the magic and proper order is restored._

“You think the Mage might be related to Snow?”

“It would make sense. He is his heir and that’s normally a title passed from father to son.”

“You think the Mage is Snow’s father?” He scoffed.

“Of course not, Magician’s don’t just abandon their children, but there must be some shared blood between them.”

If Bunce was correct, which, regrettably she usually was, to wake Simon up they either had to put the Mage to sleep or find the blood Fiona used.

“Fine. You go home and I’ll look for the blood.” (Because he had no intention of breaking into the Mage’s house and rocking him to sleep, so the only option was Snow’s disastrous idea of sniffing the stuff out.)

“I’m not going anywhere!” She shouted just as the front door opened.

“Baz?” Fiona’s voice called from downstairs and he wondered if she had managed to chase down the Mage’s men.

“Hide!” He hissed, pointing to the wardrobe. She scowled but jumped in regardless.

_At least she sort of trusted him._

“Baz, the Mage woke up from whatever –” Fiona’s voice went quiet as she laid eyes on Snow still passed out on the bed. “Is he sleeping?”

“It’s the blood magic,” He deliberately tried to be cool with his words, “For some reason he won’t wake up.”

“When?” There was something new in her face. Something he had never seen before. “Baz, when?”

“Just as the Mage’s men left.”

She muttered something under her breath and it was only when she turned towards the door that Baz realised exactly what she was feeling. Fear. Fiona Pitch was afraid.

Penelope

She was standing in a wardrobe in the Pitch’s house and it wasn’t even the strangest thing that was currently happening. Simon was unconscious, but swaddled like a baby in multiple blankets, Baz’s aunt was rushing out the room with him following, and the whole world felt as if it were standing on its head.

“Simon?” She said, stepping from the wardrobe. Nothing had worked to wake him so far, but she thought maybe talking to him might help.

His eyes started to crinkle, and he let out a very small groan.

“Simon!” She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck. He was awake! He was awake. Now they could get out of here.

Baz

Fiona stormed into her room without slamming the door which meant she knew he was following behind.

What the hell was going on? He had never seen her like this. They were Pitches. They feared nothing.

“I’m ending this.” She muttered, opening a drawer from her desk. It vaguely smelt like Snow, but the smell of jasmine and lavender was overwhelming. It must have been a really old spell to need plant matter. Smells were usually used to strengthen magic, but in the beginning when language wasn’t fully formed it was all people had.

He didn’t get to see inside the clump of parcel she was holding. There was the smell of burning then the whole thing burst into flames.

“Fiona what’s –”

“It doesn’t matter. Take the Chosen One home. We are done here.”

Baz nodded. That was it then.

Snow would wake up, and everything would go back to normal.

Simon

“Where’s Baz?”

“Are they seriously the first words out of your mouth?” Penny was standing over him. Suffocating him, actually, until she released her arms from his neck.

“We were –“ He looked over at the desk he was sitting at when Premal came in. Had he walked over to the bed afterwards? He tried to focus on what had happened, on how he possibly moved from the desk to bed and made the decision to wrap himself up in a dozen blankets before he realised the other strange thing about all this. “Penny what are you doing here?”

“I came to rescue you, Premal said you were here and I thought they might have kidnapped you, but you look –“

“What?” He rubbed his sleeve against his eyes. The past few days had been a blur, he was so tired and now it felt like he had all the energy in the world. Jumping from the bed, he grinned as he called for the sword and watched it come to his hand.

“You look great.” She had no idea how great he felt. There was so much power coursing through him, it was red hot energy burning through his veins, he truly felt like he could do anything.

Before he could reply, Baz walked in the room. “Snow,” he definitely smiled for a second before turning around to lift the book from the desk. “Can you lift that arm yet?”

“I feel like I can do anything,” He took a deep breath, there was so much magic in his blood, like restless energy. It needed out. Normally when this happened it happened with fire and ash, and everything around him burned, but the magic in his veins now wasn’t just fire.

Baz

Snow was glowing. His whole body was radiating light. An energy beacon of magic and goodness that made Baz’s heart hurt. Those bronze curls were lit up in gold, his blue eyes sparkled and Baz was sure he was hovering slight off the ground.

This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t natural. There was no spell uttered, no spell could even do this. No, this was pure unadulterated Snow.

He was back. Back for good.

“You fixed it.” Snow grinned at him while the glowing began to fade.

“Sort of.”

“Did you….y’know.” He tapped against his nose, and Baz rolled his eyes.

“No, I most certainly did not.”

He was in the middle of telling him about the coma, how he had been unconscious for hours and unable to be wakened when Bunce decided to interrupt.

“Do you have a bathroom?” She asked and he pointed her towards the one just across the corridor.

“You did sniff it out, didn’t you?” Snow said as soon as she had left the room. “I know you must have done!” He laughed. Baz didn’t think he had ever seen him laugh like that. Not with him anyway.

“What will make you believe I didn’t?”

“It doesn’t matter, Penny will tell me the truth anyway.” There was so much warmth and colour in his cheeks. It would be so easy for him to kiss him, right then and there.

“Yeah, well, you’ve done it again Chosen One, defeated the villain now you can go celebrate.”

“Go?” Snow genuinely looked puzzled. Did he think he was going to have to fight him before he left?

“The Blood Magic is gone, you should be able to just…leave.”

“Oh.”

They didn’t speak again until Bunce came back from the bathroom and loudly proclaimed how she had never seen such a black bathroom in all her life. (She was probably right, but if it was going to fit the rest of the décor they could hardly have painted it sea-foam green.)

“I should probably go home, talk to my parents about what we found.” She said, pointedly, as if it was his job to tell Snow everything that happened.

“What did you find?”

“The blood magic, we think you and the Mage might be distantly related.” He thought this was the most sincere he had ever been to Snow. “When he woke up from his coma you fell into one.”

He expected some big display of anger or confusion. Even anticipated something minor catching on fire. But instead of frustration a large grin spread across his face.

“You mean I might be related to someone!”

“You’ve always been related to someone.” (Baz wasn’t sure why he felt the need to say this.)

“But like….a magical someone! I should tell the Mage, he might be able to figure out who my parents were!”

He was glad to see Bunce had the same look of concern on her face as he did. “Simon, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She said. “Magicians don’t just give up their children.”

“Yeah but –“ He paused. “Baz you know how important this is right?”

These were dangerous waters.

He must have been talking about that conversation they had had about dead parents. Crowley, Snow must really have trusted him to bring that up again.

“I think we should dig a little on our own first.” He replied truthfully.

“So what do we need? Family trees? Maps? Addresses?” The smile had not left his face. Simon Snow was positively ecstatic and it was making his dead heart even heavier. “I wish there was a magical version of that Davina McCall show.”

“We can work on it when we are back at school.” Bunce said, “But let’s get out of here for now.”

“School starts in a week, why not just work on it now.”

“Because you can’t stay in my house, my parents are in the middle of some serious research.”

“Oh.” Snow said in that sad tone. His mood entirely shifted, and maybe it was because that sparkle left his eyes but Baz felt obliged to offer an alternative.

“You can stay here if you want.”

“What?” Penny glared at him, but the smile had returned to Snow’s face.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Snow, he had you kidnapped for a few days!”

“Yeah, and now he is going to help me find my family in return.”

“Return for what?” Baz raised an eyebrow, “I was the one that freed you so I think we are even.”

“You shoved a ham sandwich in my mouth!”

(They weren’t fighting the way they normally did. There was a playfulness to it, he was smiling and Simon Snow was smiling back at him.)

“You threw a bowl at my dead mother!”

“Right,” Bunce said very loudly before Snow could reply. “It seems we have that covered. I’m going to ask my parents what they know. They are usually good at family histories. I’ll be over at ten tomorrow.” She looked directly at him before the last part, as if subtly conveying she would know it was him if Snow miraculously disappeared.

“Thanks.” Snow muttered a while after Bunce left. They were sat at the edge of the bed, after Snow had found a way to get the TV to work.

“What for?”

“Don’t be a prick.” He spat. “I just…thanks for helping me.”

Baz let the words sink into him before replying. He wanted to keep them forever, to keep this moment forever. Snow, smiling, sat beside him and happy to be there, the TV playing whatever soap opera followed The Simpsons. He had thanked him. Had actually thanked him.

It felt strange. More than strange. It was unnerving.

“Does that mean I don’t need to help you anymore?”

“Fuck off.”

 _That was better._ He grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with me, I'm so sorry these are so inconsistent!! I really want to try and get them done once a week but every time I say that something comes up, and they end up a couple of days late, but I hope things are calmer this week so I don't let you down as much !! 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this chapter I genuinely put a lot into it, and I know things seem slow now but they will pick up very very soon, I promise!!!


End file.
